


Carving Jack O’ Lanterns

by Shadow_Of_Castiel



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Friendship, Halloween, Jack O' Lanterns, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-03
Updated: 2010-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Of_Castiel/pseuds/Shadow_Of_Castiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is curious about the jack o' lantern Aziraphale is carving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carving Jack O’ Lanterns

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Good Omens story I've ever written, which is surprising, considering it's one of my favorite books.

"What are you doing, angel?" Crowley asked, staring at Aziraphale with some cause for concern.

The angel was currently elbow deep in pumpkin seeds and pumpkin flesh, hands plunged deep within the large vegetable. Aziraphale's tongue peeked out from between his lips with the force of his concentration, brows pulled low over his eyes as he flicked a glance up towards the demon.

"I'm carving jack o lanterns, my dear," he said, absently, with a vague smile at Crowley.

"So I see, but why?" Crowley asked as he leant closer to the carved face of the pumpkin.

He took in the slight indentations where Aziraphale had started to design a face in the shiny orange surface of the pumpkin. The demon straightened and stared at Aziraphale accusingly while the angel answered.

"It's what humans do when it's time for Halloween," the angel said, as he scooped another handful of pumpkin flesh into the nearby bowl.

The angel peered enthusiastically at the bowl's contents, smiling beautifully at the thought of the pie that he would make with the pumpkin flesh later that evening.

"You're not a human, angel. You're, well, you're an angel," Crowley reminded Aziraphale, with a disgruntled snort at the angel's behaviour.

"I know, dear boy," Aziraphale replied, staring at Crowley as though he thought the demon had finally run mad. "Does that stop me from decorating my shop?"

Crowley cast a glance around the shop, shelves overflowing with books that no one ever bought. Aziraphale used the book shop as a front for collecting rare and collectable items, scaring away potential customers by enchanting the items they bought into spontaneously combusting as soon as they walked out of the shop, or explode in a plague of frogs or something similar. Crowley should know; he'd been there enough times when the customers had been hospitalised.

"I suppose it doesn't," Crowley allowed, to Aziraphale's earlier comment. "I suppose you'll also be putting a Christmas tree in here when the time comes, complete with an angel on the top."

"Of course," Aziraphale replied, sounding thoroughly scandalized at the thought of not doing it. "But the angel stays off the top of the tree. Do you know how uncomfortable it is up there?"

"You're not supposed to use a real bloody angel," Crowley said, in horror, recoiling at the thought.

"Hmm, now that's where I was going wrong," Aziraphale said, with an absent smile. "Would you like some tea, dear boy?"

Crowley blinked at the sudden shift of conversation, before he said - "Um, yes, if you have a spare cup. Now about these jack o' lanterns."

"I thought you'd given up with the pumpkins," Aziraphale said, as he bustled about brewing tea with orange stained hands.

Crowley sincerely hoped the resultant tea he was handed didn't taste like pumpkin.

"No, I haven't given up with them. I'm surprised you haven't by now," Crowley said, darkly. "What I want to know is, why is my face carved into one of them?"

"You're a demon, my dear. Why would I not carve a demon's face into my pumpkin? I don't know any other demons personally to carve," Aziraphale said, sunnily.

Crowley blinked; after all, the angel had some kind of twisted sense behind his logic.

"Right," he said, slowly, absentmindedly taking the cup of tea that the angel handed to him, which thankfully did not taste like pumpkin. "I guess that makes me famous, doesn't it? I always wanted my face carved into a pumpkin."

Aziraphale missed the subtlety of Crowley's sarcasm, instead smiling angelically at the demon.

"Good, I knew you'd see it my way," he said. "Now, if you'd hold still, I need to carve a few fine details into the lantern."

Crowley surprisingly did as Aziraphale asked, sitting by quietly as the angel finished off the carving in the pumpkin. He was curious to see just how it would look when Aziraphale had finished and was pleasantly surprised by the likeness the angel had etched upon the bright orange skin.

He stood by, setting the small candle alight surreptitiously when Aziraphale wasn't looking, before grinning at the way that the flames danced through the pumpkin face's open mouth. He left soon after, wondering at the strange habits of angels and humans. Still, he mused to himself, as long as Aziraphale was happy and the pursuit kept him out of trouble, then where was the harm in that?

~fini~


End file.
